


The Key to Closeness

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Episode Related, Fluff, Future, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-04
Updated: 2005-04-04
Packaged: 2018-12-27 10:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12079533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Light 414 spoilers. Justin attends to the various little details of moving in with Brian.





	The Key to Closeness

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

After a short detour into Tinseltown, and a couple of life crises all around, Justin was finally able to take Brian up on the offer he'd made months and months ago. When Justin brought it up after a night of Babylon, backrooms, and partying, Brian had looked at him blankly, said, "Oh, that?" and passed out. 

Justin was sure that Brian had forgotten all about it, but when he woke up the next day, Brian was gone, and there was a post-it note on the fridge that said, "Had errands. Cleared space for you. –B." Brian had remembered. Justin figured that Brian was having a panic attack over venturing so far into domesticity (and old age by implication), and was probably at Michael's reliving their glory days. 

Justin called Daphne for help in moving in. He needed transportation more than manual labor, so it was just as well that he got Daphne's Saturn, which had more trunk space than Brian's Corvette. The bulk of moving in was taken up with going to Daphne's, Mom's, and Debbie's to pick things up, instead of the actual moving of objects. There wasn't much of it; with all the moving he'd done over the years he knew exactly what he needed, and he knew how to make optimum use of luggage. 

It only took half an hour to unload his things from the car, onto the lift, and into the loft. Justin already knew how much space Brian would dole out: half a shelf in the bathroom, two shelves, thirty percent of the closet, room for one pair of shoes, and half a cabinet. It took an hour to put all the things they could away, and when they were done Justin still had a stack of clothes and a couple of shoes out. Justin might own the minimum of possessions, but Brian was a clothes horse.

Justin and Daphne went out to see a movie, and by the time it finished and Daphne drove him back, Justin had already planned his campaign: He'd argue for a whole bathroom shelf, and when Brian queened out about how he needed each and every beauty product, he'd concede that Brian could keep the bathroom if he got twenty percent more closet space and another shelf. Brian would snap up that offer in a New York minute, and think he'd won when Justin only needed a third of a bathroom shelf. Extra shoe space would be the hardest to get, since Brian guarded it zealously. Justin suspected Brian's shoes held orgies in the middle of the night and bred like rabbits.

Justin was working out how to get the extra space when the door rumbled open, and Brian walked in. 

"Here." Brian reached into his jacket, and gave him a small white envelope, then headed towards the kitchen. 

The envelope was heavier and bulkier than a piece of paper. Justin shook open the envelope, and two keys spilled into his hand. One key was for the entrance door of the complex, and one was to the loft. On the inside of the envelope flap, in plain black ink, was the security code.

Justin looked up. Brian was at his desk, taking a sip of guava juice, and turning his computer on. 

"I already have the keys," Justin said. When Brian had first given him access to his home, Justin had felt privileged and giddy. He'd been eighteen, and hadn't known that Michael had one. As did Lindsay. Debbie, too.

"They're not for you," said Brian, not bothering to look up from the computer screen, "They're for Daphne."

Justin's eyes flickered over his surroundings, as if they'd give him a clue to what was going on. "Why would Daphne need…"

"For the usual reasons. To drop in at all hours, bitch at you, do each other's hair. Take your pick," said Brian. He moved his mouse, and scowled at the screen. 

He knew that Brian and his best friend got along well, but he didn't think they were full access at all hours close. Not like Michael, Debbie, Lindsay, and himself—Oh. Daphne wasn't close to Brian, she was close to him. 

Justin moved to the bedroom, and started rearranging their space. 

In the middle of it, Brian yelled over to him, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Getting settled into my home," Justin called out.

"By abusing my Guccis? If you put scuff marks on them, I'll kill you!"


End file.
